KASMINE.I was exhausted. Mentally, emotionally, physically...Everything felt dull and heavy. My thoughts were too jagged to fit neatly in my head.I didn't even have the strength to be angry anymore. And Kester wasn't making it any easy for me to stay angry.Because what the hell did he buy all these for? I had only asked for something to eat. Just something simple, anything. But instead, I walked downstairs to a goddamn mall dumped in the living room. The dining table must be groaning under the weight of food, tech, shopping bags, boxes wrapped in ribbons, and a ridiculous lavender package I didn't even want to know the price of.He'd gone feral in the name of "getting something for me to eat."He was a mix of sweetness and bitterness. He was both safe and dangerous. He was a blend of warmth and wrath. He was honey on a blade. He was sweet and lethal. He was... Oh, my God.He was a complex man... So complex that I found myself making up excuses for all his wrongdoings June told me
KESTER.I pulled into the driveway like I had a fucking purpose.Because I did.My guards straightened the second my car rolled to a stop. I didn't wait for them to salute or do the whole formal protocol bullshit—I rolled down the window halfway and barked, "Empty the trunk. Everything. Take it inside, now."They moved fast, reaching for the trunk, but even they had to pause for a second when they opened it.Yeah.That shit was full.I'd gone overboard, and I didn't give a single fuck. If anything, I was pissed I hadn't gotten more.I had an idea what pregnancy does to women, messing with their appetite and all that. So, I was prepared.There were grocery bags packed with everything she'd ever so much as glanced at. Her favorite chocolate chip cookies—the specific ones with sea salt flakes on top that only one damn bakery in town got right. I bought the whole shelf.Snack packs of dried mangoes, that exact brand of spicy trail mix she claimed made her lips "tingle just right."A box o
KESTER.I swear to fuck, I didn't want to answer my phone since it was my father calling.I knew my father didn't call unless something was boiling under his wrinkled skin. And honestly? If this call could irritate him a little—drag it out, make him squirm—then it won't be a bad idea to frustrate the old fucker a little bit.It would keep me occupied as I drove home. Plus, I was still very upset about not being able to finish what I had set out to do tonight. But it was fine. As long as Kasmine was the one who had stopped me, I was fine.If she says Melissa gets to live, then so be it. That's how it works now.I answered the call while driving at an unhealthy speed. I was in a hurry to return home to my baby."Yes?" I said flatly, not bothering with the useless pleasantries he probably still thought he deserved.I knew my tone would piss him off. That was the point.Let the old fuck stew in it.There was stale silence. The kind that used to make me sit straighter as a kid, hands on my
The oil popped a few times, and I jumped back, laughing nervously. My fingers smelled like tomatoes, and I had a smear of egg yolk on my sleeve, but I didn't care.I went back to the eggs and added pepper because the boy in the video did. I tried to hum a song, but my throat felt tight, like something was stuck there.Soon, the scent of toasted bread joined the eggs.It took me almost three hours. My back hurt a little, and I had egg bits stuck to the bottom of the pan because I forgot to lower the heat halfway through. Still, it smelled okay. Like something you could actually eat without frowning.At least I didn't really burn anything.The table was already set. The plates lined up neatly, and napkins were folded into triangles like Caroline did. I even lit one of the tiny candles from the drawer, the ones they used when guests came over. It made the dining look warmer.I checked the time.Almost six.They should be home by now.I wiped my hands on the dish towel and peeked out the
KESTER.17 YEARS AGO.It'd been four days since my sad, lonely birthday, and Mum and Dad had not been home yet.No calls. No texts. Not even a note.Caroline came to tell me two days after my parents didn't show up at home for my birthday that they had traveled for a business meeting.I nodded then as if I believed her.But I didn't.I may be eleven, but I'm not stupid.Mum was probably with one of the men Dad always yelled about, and Dad was probably with one of the women Mum said nasty things about when she thought I was asleep.The card I made for them was still sitting on the hallway table. I drew stars on it. And a crown. I wrote "I love you" with a blue marker.I thought maybe they'd see it when they came back.But they didn't.Outside school this morning, I watched Mrs. Freya hug Norlan.She kissed his head and said, "Be safe and eat your snacks, okay?" She kept looking at him with so much tenderness in her eyes, like he was the only thing that mattered in the whole world.He l
KESTER.The dog lunged forward, barking... until I looked at it.With just a glance, its body froze mid-growl. The hackles on its back still raised, but its eyes—those loyal, trusting, stupid eyes—went glassy.It stared into me as if recognizing something ancient and stronger. Then it whimpered, backed away, and sat obediently."Good boy," I murmured as I stepped inside, brushing dust off my jacket sleeve.The air inside was too warm. Melissa had been baking something—cookies, maybe. Something sweet and safe and homemade.I inhaled it like perfume.I strolled into the living room like I owned it. The couch was plush and gray with a throw blanket neatly folded over the armrest. I sat down, crossing one leg over the other, elbows spread wide across the backrest, claiming the space."Melissa," I called out calmly. "Bring the kids. Let's all sit together. I've had a long day. Don't be rude."There was no response at first as they all stood frozen in the dining area.Then, slowly, Melissa